


Words Hurt

by scoottt



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 00:09:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scoottt/pseuds/scoottt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Words can hurt, but sometimes, who they hurt the most can be surprising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> I got this one off of my old fanfiction.net account - I'm scoottt there as well.

Ellis was ecstatic when they came across a safe room that resided in a boarded up McDonald's. In the distance, the golden arches had been taunting him, but when they were closer, they were all able to notice the telltale design of the safe room door. Against better judgment, just out of pure childish excitement, Ellis sprinted the last stretch to the fast food haven, leaving his comrades behind with scowls on their tired faces. The hundred metres or so were covered safely, most of the commons having been cleared out as they came closer with a nice bullet to the head.

Inside, the young southerner immediately began scouring the freezers and whatnot for any sort of greasy McDonald's food. Even though the non-perishables and stale food were all they had, all he wanted was for something different to eat, something artery-clogging. So, when he found a box of frozen hamburger patties, his good mood only escalated.

The box was brought out, and Rochelle - the others having gotten there at their own pace - set on frying some up for them, the electricity surprisingly still working. Ellis floated around her for a while, at least until the lady told him that she needed some space. Dejected but refusing to let his happiness drain away, he just wandered around a bit. Coach had taken to counting and sorting supplies, and the hick found it best to just leave him to the task, continuing to wander around the facility, wondering where Nick disappeared to.

Ellis searched through the back rooms for anything useful or interesting, but nothing caught his attention. His feet lead him to the bathroom door, and he was about to push it open, hand already on the surface, but he stopped when he heard something.

"Ellis."

Spinning on his heel, he looked behind himself. Nothing. A puzzled look passed over his face for a moment, but Ellis just shrugged it off and turned back around, opening the bathroom door.

Against the farthest wall leaned Nick, back to Ellis. One arm braced the man in the white suit against the wall, forehead rested against it, while the other was lost in front of him. The movement of the latter arm, though, gave away what was happening, making the face of the southern male heat up slightly. Again, Ellis heard his name, but he now noticed it came from the man with his hand down his pants. He thought about it for a moment before hesitantly responding. "...uh, yeah, Nick?"

There was a quick fluster of white before Nick was facing him, pants fixed and eyebrows furrowed together, eyes narrowed. Ellis kept his eyes on the other's face, however hard to do, instead of on the strained fabric at the front of the other's pants. "What the fuck are you doing here, kid?"

"Well, I heard my name when I was lookin' around th' place," Ellis explained, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, "so I came ta see where it was comin' from. Which was you, 'pparently."

The older man's expression darkened more as he stepped closer to Ellis. His hands clenched into fists, his rings catching the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. Nick's tone of voice was threatening as he spoke. "Don't tell anyone, Coveralls. I swear to god..."

"Ya swear what, Nick?" A goofy, lopsided grin spread across Ellis' face, eyes twinkling mischievously beneath the brim of his hat. "I might just hafta tell Ro' 'bout this."

"Do that, and so help me, I will leave your ass to be eaten by zombies."

Ellis brushed the threat off as if it was nothing, simply stating, "Naw, ya wouldn't do that." With that, the younger male left the restroom, following his nose to the tables out front, burgers done being fried up, Coach already making a dent in the pile of meat. Nick's muttered "Wanna bet on it?" didn't reach his ears.

\----

Departure from McDonald's had only happened that morning, but it felt as if they'd been away from it for days. The sun bore down on them, just walking making them sweat. High humidity helped nothing, nor did the still air. Climbing over the rubble of demolished buildings left them panting and wishing for rain, or at least a breeze. Alas, there wasn't a cloud in the blue sky overhead, causing them to constantly seek out shady places to take quick breaks, which seemed to become less and less quick as the day dragged on.

At one point, there was a rumble in the distance, and Ellis couldn't help but scan the sky above in all directions in hopes of seeing dark, puffy storm clouds on the horizon. As he guessed, there were none in sight. The rumble sounded again, closer this time, but now, the ground shook just the slightest bit beneath their tired feet.

Ellis looked again to the horizon, eyes soaking up the sight of a black dot. Maybe it was a storm cloud that just rolled in, because the rumbling continued, or perhaps a large truck with a loud muffler. The hick could only hope that it really was a storm cloud, the ominous noise just being the peal of thunder. But, as he continued to watch the dot, it became larger and larger, all too quickly. That couldn't be a cumulonimbus.

To confirm that, a monstrous roar sliced through the air and a storm of debris came hurdling at the group of survivors. Each split in a different direction to avoid being taken out by the airborne stones. A chorus of surprised curses floated atop the deep grumbles of the nearing monstrosity. In a matter of seconds, they all began firing their weapons, hoping to stop it in its tracks; the damage it could have done already from far away could only be worse up close.

Ellis found running around and shooting at the massive creature was nearly ineffective, so the southerner found a spot on the ground, getting down on one knee. He aimed the gun at the thing's small head that sat upon massive, inhumanly muscular shoulders. Even then, it just came barrelling down the road, as if indestructible. Moving to another location, Ellis yelled, "This thing's built like a fuckin' tank!"

No one responded, all just firing and reloading rapidly. When Ellis' need to reload came, he found that his hands shook like the ground beneath them, and the ammo he was feeding the gun tumbled to the ground. Immediately he dropped down, scrambling for the spilled bullets, knowing all ammo was precious in their situation, what with all the zombies waiting to feast on them.

"Boy, watch out!"

At the sound of Coach's voice, Ellis looked up just in time to see the tank-like thing swing its burly arms at him, hitting him square across the chest. On his back he landed, wind knocked clear out of him, oversized zombie just metres away. As it stormed closer, the hick tried to push himself off of the ground to make an escape, but everything inside felt broken and jumbled up. Barely able to breathe, he tried to yell for help from his team mates; however, they were already doing everything they could, shooting and shooting at the freak of nature.

The last thing Ellis saw was the shadow of the rock being slammed down on him.

\----

Nick looked from the now dead and aptly named "Tank" to the large chunk of upheaved cement that sprouted two coverall-clad legs and a deep crimson-coloured puddle from beneath. The feet in his dress shoes carried him over the ground, skirting around the gruesome sight, to where a slightly bloodied cap lie. Soon the item was in his hands, being carefully dusted off.

With the hat in his hands, the conman couldn't bear to turn around and look once more at the crushed body. It didn't matter if he could see the other's face, the other's body from under the rock, he simply could not look at it. Not giving it any thought, the man in the white suit gingerly placed Ellis' hat with the silly little tow-truck on it over his slicked-back, now greasy and dishevelled hair.

When asked about the tear or two in his eyes, Nick simply walked ahead with a mumbled "let's get going" and a refusal to look at Rochelle and Coach, not willing to explain his last words to Ellis to them.


End file.
